with Mom on Long Island, New York, until I went into the Army.”

“You were in the service?”

Stafford nodded.

“Was that before or after college?”

“After college and before law school.”

“Did you go to work for Price, Winward right after law school?”

“Yes. I’ve been there ever since,” Stafford said. David noticed something peculiar in the way Stafford answered, but he moved on.

“Larry, have you ever been convicted of a crime?”

“I had some trouble in high school. Minor in possession of beer. But that was cleared up.”

“I’m only interested in criminal situations after the age of eighteen where you were either found guilty by a jury or by a judge or pleaded guilty.”

“Oh, no. I never had anything like that.”

There was a knock on the door and the guard stuck his head in.

“He’s got to go to court soon, Mr. Nash.”

“How much time have I got, Al?”

“I can give you five minutes.”

“Okay. Just knock when you’re ready.”

The door closed, and David started collecting his material and placing it in his attache case.

“We’ll finish this later. I’ll meet you at the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry about that business before. About…”

David stopped him.

“Larry, you’re under more pressure now than I’ve ever been, and I think you’re holding up very well, considering. I’m going to try to find out what the DA has on you, then I’ll meet with you again and we’ll start plotting strategy. Try to relax as much as you can. This is out of your hands now, and there isn’t much you can do. So try not to brood about the case. I know that that’s impossible advice to follow, but you pay me to do your worrying, and you’ll be wasting your money if you do that part of my work for me.”

Stafford smiled. It was a broad, brave smile. He grasped David’s hand in a firm grip.

“I want to thank you for taking this case. I feel much more confident now with you on it. You’ve got quite a reputation, if you don’t know that already. And one more thing. I know you said it didn’t matter, and I believe you, but I want you to know that I am innocent. I really am.”

THE PHONE RANGjust as Monica was leaving her office. She hesitated for a moment, then answered it.

“Monica, this is Ron Crosby.”

“Oh, hi, Ron. I was just on my way up to arraign Stafford, and I’m going to be late. Can I call you back?”

“No. Hold on. This is about Stafford. Does he get out on bail today?”

“I talked it over with the boss, and we’re not opposing bail if David asks for it.”

“I see. Look, I may be onto something and…I don’t think he should be out.”

“Why not?”

“Do you remember when we were talking? We figured Stafford was getting a little on the side without risking the dangers and entanglements of an affair. So he picks up a prostitute and panics when he finds out she’s a policewoman.”

“That’s what I think,” Monica said. “His wife is the one with the money. If there was a divorce, it would hurt him more than her.”

“Right. That’s what everyone was thinking. We saw Darlene as a policewoman. But she was posing as a prostitute. Maybe she was killed because Stafford thought she was a prostitute.”

“I don’t get you.”

“I did some checking on Stafford. He’s never been convicted of a crime or even arrested for one, but I did come up with something. This isn’t the first time Larry Stafford’s had problems with a whore.”

THE GUARD OPENEDthe steel door of the holding tank and told Larry it was time to go to court. He was polite and more deferential than he had been with the other prisoners. It made Larry feel uncomfortable. Another guard opened the door that connected the holding area to the courtroom. Larry hesitated at the threshold. He wanted to crawl inside himself and disappear. David had arranged for him to have the dignity of his own clothes, so that he did not have to parade in the uniform of a prisoner before all these people he knew, but the clothes did not prevent him from feeling shame and that nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach that had grown worse since his arrest.

There was an embarrassed quiet when Stafford was led into the courtroom. Other lawyers looked away. The judge, a man he had appeared before only last week, occupied himself with a loose stack of papers. The bailiff, a young night student with whom he had sometimes chatted during court recess, would not look at him.

David hurried to Stafford’s side and began telling him what would happen. Larry wanted to see Jennifer, but he could not bring himself to look at the packed courtroom. He felt he could hold himself together if he stared forward. He wanted to numb all feeling, freeze his heart, and melt away.

They were through the bar of the court now and standing in front of Judge Sturgis. An attractive woman was reading the charge against him, but he could not associate the words she was saying with himself. It was some other Larry Stafford she was talking about. And all the time, he concentrated on a spot just above the judge’s head and tried to stand erect.

“Your Honor, I am David Nash, and I will be representing Mr. Stafford in this matter.”

“Very good, Mr. Nash.”

“Your Honor, I would like to raise the matter of bail. Mr. Stafford was arrested last night. As the Court knows, he is a member of the bar, he is married, and he is practicing with a well-respected firm…”

“Yes, Mr. Nash,” the judge interrupted. He turned toward Monica Powers.

“Is there any opposition to the setting of bail at this time, Ms. Powers?”

“Yes, Your Honor. The State would be opposed to the setting of bail at this time.”

David started to say something, then thought better of it. Instead, he addressed the Court. “We would like to have a bail hearing scheduled as quickly as possible then, Your Honor.”

Monica turned toward him.

“I should tell counsel that we are taking this case directly to the grand jury this afternoon, and we expect to arraign Mr. Stafford in circuit court in one to two days.”

“We’ll set a hearing date anyway, Ms. Powers,” Judge Sturgis said. “You can reset the hearing in circuit court if an indictment is handed down, Mr. Nash.”

“Do I have to stay in jail?” Stafford whispered.

“Yes,” David said. He looked at Monica, but she seemed uncomfortable and looked away from him, he thought, intentionally.

“But I thought-”

“I know. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll find out as soon as this is over.”

The clerk set a hearing date and David marked it on his folder. The next case was called and Monica started to leave. David touched her elbow.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She looked undecided, then nodded.

“I’ll wait for you in the hall,” she said, then hurried out.

“Larry, I’ll be in touch soon. I want to find out why there was opposition to your bail.”

“You’ve got to get me out of here,” Stafford said. The guard was gesturing Stafford back toward the holding area, and a new prisoner was being led into the courtroom. “You don’t know what it’s like in that place.”

“We’ll have a hearing on the bail in a few days and get this cleared up. I-”

“I don’t know if I can take it in that stinking hole for two more days. I want out now, dammit. That’s why I hired you.”

David stopped and looked directly at Stafford. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“Larry, you have to start adjusting to the fact that, guilty or innocent, you are accused of a crime. You may not be able to get out of jail. The DA may convince the judge that bail is inappropriate. You have to get hold of yourself

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